Ashes, Ashes (We All Fall Down)
by HeyAssButtImBatman
Summary: Sam Winchester could appreciate irony. He had to, to keep himself (mostly) sane. But as he sat there on the cold concrete with Gabriel dying in his arms, he had never felt less like laughing; because of all the ways he had imagined the ex-archangel eventually dying, getting shot by some punk kid demanding a wallet after a successful hunt was not one of them.


It was funny how ironic life could be. Sometimes it was small things, like Grandma's gravestone being engraved with the words 'Nothing is written in stone', or getting a plaque for your English teacher that reads 'Your the best teacher ever!'. Sometimes it's big things, like a man afraid of flying dying in a crash the first time he ever rides a plane.

Sam Winchester could appreciate irony. He had to, to keep himself (mostly) sane. But as he sat there on the cold concrete with Gabriel dying in his arms, he had never felt less like laughing; because of all the ways he had imagined the ex-archangel eventually dying, getting shot by some punk kid demanding a wallet after a successful hunt was not one of them.

… oO()Oo …

"Hey, Sam-a-lam."

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. He hadn't slept in about thirty-eight hours, he hadn't eaten in about twenty, and he had been sitting in one spot so long that there was now a permanent butt print on the seat. Needless to say, he was not in the mood to deal with Gabriel's shit, and he told the archangel so. Gabriel simply laughed, the fucker.

Whatever. Sam would just ignore him. He knew how much the Trickster thrived on attention, so hopefully he'd leave Sam alone if he didn't get a response. Mind made up, Sam returned to the thick tome in his lap, trying to pick out words from all of the blurry squiggles dancing across his vision.

"Hey, Sammy."

Just ignore him, Sam. Now, does that say laceration or incineration? He couldn't tell.

"Oh, Samantha!"

Deep breaths, Sam. In… out… in… out. There, much better. Sort of.

"Angel One to Mister Moose, come in Mister Moose, over!"

That was it! Sam slammed his pen down onto the table and spun in his chair to face his tormentor. The harsh words he was about to spit died on his lips, however, when he tool in the tray Gabriel was carrying. It was loaded down with sandwiches, strawberries, Pop-Tarts, and what looked suspiciously like how chocolate.

What the hell?

"I figured you might be hungry," Gabriel explained, setting the tray down in front of Sam. "You've been sitting here for hours, and you haven't flipped a page in about thirty minutes. A break seemed necessary.

Sam looked out of the window in Bobby's small kitchen, surprised to see that it was dark.

When did it get dark?

"When the sun went down, genius," Gabriel said, a teasing tone in his voice. Sam looked up at him in surprise.

Why did Gabriel make him dinner?

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I told you, I thought you'd be hungry. Now, was I right or did all of those strawberries go to waste?"

Sam cautiously took a sandwich - he had forgiven the Trickster, more or less, but that didn't mean he trusted him completely - and took a bite. His eyebrows shot up.

Peanut butter and banana. Sam's favourite.

Gabriel beamed at him. "I know."

… oO()Oo …

By the time Dean picked up his phone, Gabriel's breathing was fast and shallow and Sam was frantic. Dean could obviously hear it in the was Sam stuttered out an explanation, and for once he simply listened and didn't tease.

"We're on our way," he said tersely right before there was a click and the dial tone sounded in Sam's ear. He threw the phone aside and used both hands to press down on the bullet wound just below Gabriel's left collar bone.

… oO()Oo …

Sam felt like his lungs would burst from the force of his laughter. He was half-on, half-off the the small motel bed he had been sitting on, and Gabriel was sitting cross legged in the center of its twin.

"And Joseph didn't know it was a dream, the idiot," Gabriel said, scoffing lightly. "As if trees are normally bright pink and grow loaves of bread. When I told him - politely, mind you - that his sixteen-year-old virgin of a wife was pregnant with God 2.0, he grabbed a dream pitchfork and tried to stab me!"

Well, serves Gabriel right. It's rude and frankly quite freaky to just pop into people's dreams.

"Hey, it wasn't my idea," Gabriel said, sounding hurt, but the mischievous gleam in his eye gave him away. "Dad's a total drama queen, and he thought that appearing in dreams was an appropriate way to convey messages."

Oh, God is a total drama queen? That's rich, coming from Gabriel.

Gabriel's hand shot to his chest and he gave Sam a wounded look. "Hey, I'm not the one who flooded the world - the entire fucking world, Sam! - just because the creatures that I created and gave free will decided not to listen to me anymore." He paused, head tilted thoughtfully. "God's an attention whore."

Sam fell completely off the bed laughing.

… oO()Oo …

Gabriel was ice cold by the time the Impala's headlights shone into the filthy alley. Sam didn't look up when Dean shouted his name, or when Cas slid to his knees next to him.

"No," the angel whispered brokenly, and the dark clouds that had been blocking the moon overhead finally burst. Sam thought it fitting that it rained now, of all times. When he was young, Pastor Jim used to say that rain was simply the tears of God; and Sam thought maliciously that God deserved to cry for bringing his son back as a human into this shitstorm of a world.

… oO()Oo …

Gabriel towered over Castiel (a feat only made possible because of the fact that Cas was sitting and Gabriel was on a stool). Cas, to his credit, didn't even flinch, even though Gabriel could be pretty damn scary when he wanted to.

"Yes, I'm sure about this," Gabriel said. "This has been going on long enough, and frankly, it's disgusting."

Cas frowned, and Sam quickly stepped in.

It's not the idea of Cas and Dean together that's disgusting, don't worry.

"Yeah, it's the moping, and the pining, and the eye-fucking even though I'm standing between you guys but you just don't see me because you're fucking titans," Gabriel informed them. "I'm tired of you and Dean-O walking around looking like you guys are the hypothetical kicked puppy."

"Is that a reference?" Cas asked. "Because if it is, I'm afraid I don't understand it."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and Sam gave Cas a little push towards where Dean was leaning against his car.

Just go already.

"Very well," Cas said, straightening his spine. He marched forwards purposefully. Dean looked up when Cas stopped in front of him, and his greeting was cut off when Cas grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled him forward, and kissed him.

Dean froze, eyes wide, and didn't respond. Cas recoiled as if burned, eyes panicked. His mouth moved, probably offering an apology, and then he shot Gabriel and Sam a panicked look before he practically sprinted away.

"Wait for it," Gabriel muttered to himself, eyes watching the scene before them with frightening intensity. Cas was halfway across the parking lot before Dean snapped out of his daze. He hopped off of Baby's hood and ran after Cas, tackling him to the ground.

They gazed at each other for a split second before Dean smashed their lips together and two pairs of eyes slipped shut.

Wordlessly, Gabriel raised a fist and Sam tapped it with his own.

… oO()Oo …

The ride back to Bobby's house was silent. For once, Dean wasn't blasting eighties music or bitching about the water being dripped all over his seat. His grip on the steering wheel was tight and his gaze didn't waver from the road in front of him, a rarity.

They hadn't wanted to just shove Gabriel's body - nononohecantbedeadhecantbedead - into the trunk, so Cas sat with him in the back with Gabriel's head in his lap. In the dark, it almost looked like he was just sleeping; but then they passed underneath a streetlight and Sam saw clearly the dark stain on his blue shirt, and smelled the coppery tang of blood in the air, and he returned his attention to the front, blinking furiously.

… oO()Oo …

Sam looked up from his book with a frown on his face. He was alone in the bunker, or at least he thought he was, so he had no reasonable explanation for why there was a strange humming sound reverberating through the ventilation system.

He was almost completely sure that there wasn't any ghost of dead friends - Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath to fight off the grief - or crazy witches from a not really made up world roaming around, but in his life shit had a way of hitting the fan no matter how hard you tried to fight it, so Sam decided to take the sensible route and not take chances.

He grabbed his shotgun, which was sitting innocently in the chair next to his, and got to his feet, pausing at the vents to try and figure out where the sound was coming from. Of course, he couldn't really tell, but he _thought_ the sound seemed louder to the left, so that's where he headed.

As he moved on, he became aware that he was heading into the part of the bunker where the bedrooms were. He cocked his gun and held it at the ready when he reached the first door, which just so happened to be Dean's.

The doorknob felt small in his hand, as most things did, and it turned easily in his hand. Nothing jumped out at him when he opened the door, so he closed it and moved on. When he reached the last door in the hall, Gabriel's, he paused and listened intently. He realized that the humming was actually singing, and he smirked when he recognized Gabriel's voice.

The Trickster - for even though he didn't have his powers, he was still just that - had turned out to be incredibly shy about somethings, and while he had no qualms about walking around the bunker clad in nothing but underwear, which Sam didn't really mind (Should that have bothered him more? He felt like it should have, but he didn't really care.), he would rather stab himself in the eye with a spoon than let anyone see anything that he'd ever drawn or hear him sing.

Sam thought it was a tremendous pity, because if Gabriel had learned anything on his thousands of years on Earth, it was how to draw. Sam had accidentally seen one of his works and thought it a black and white photo before Cas had corrected him. He'd never heard the ex-angel sing, though, and wondered if he would be good at that, too.

Sam pressed his ear against the door and listened. From inside, he could just barely hear words drifting through the thick wood.

 _Secrets I have held in my heart_

 _Are harder to hide than I thought_

 _Maybe I just wanna be yours_

 _I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours_

 _Wanna be yours, wanna be yours, wanna be yours_

 _Wanna be yours, wanna be yours, wanna be yours_

 _Wanna be yours_

Sam carefully, silently, opened the door, peering through the crack he made before opening it fully. Gabriel was spread out on his stomach in his bed, facing the wall. He had a pair of headphones on, and was idly flipping through a magazine. He kept singing, oblivious to Sam's presence, and for a moment the hunter allowed himself to believe that the words were being sung to him.

 _I wanna be your vacuum cleaner_

 _Breathing in your dust_

 _I wanna be your Ford Cortina_

 _I won't ever rust_

 _I just wanna be yours_

 _I just wanna be yours_

 _I just wanna be yours_

Sam smiled softly and silently closed the door. Gabriel wasn't good at singing.

He was freaking amazing.

… oO()Oo …

The fire was huge, a red and orange and yellow mass that was much larger than it should have been, as if sensing that Gabriel was - had been, Sam corrected himself - something greater than his appearance suggested. The smoke was burning his eyes, but Sam didn't look away, using the smoke as an excuse for why his eyes were more watery than normal.

At his side, Cas tucked himself underneath Dean's arm. Neither of them said anything, though Sam could clearly read the grief in their eyes. All three of them had grown used to Gabriel during the few years he had been living with them. No, more than used to him. He had become a part of their life, an expectancy. Sam had no idea what they would do now that the fourth member - or was it first, since Gabriel had been the first, besides Lucifer, to truly exercise free will? - of Team Free Will was gone. He just knew that they'd do it with a lot less obnoxious laughter and candy wrappers in their lives.

… oO()Oo …

Sam glared at his milkshake as if it had personally offended him. Which it hadn't, because it was just a milkshake, but still. He was incredibly irritated. At Gabriel for flustering him so badly with innuendos and sultry winks, but also at Dean for laughing and Cas for not controlling his deviant of a brother.

Well, two could play at this game, he thought as he spotted Gabriel coming back towards the table with a glass of Coke in his hand. A wicked idea took root in his mind, and he smiled around his straw. Predictably, Gabriel slid into the booth right next to Sam; not that anyone was surprised, because no one wanted the awkwardness that came with sitting next to Cas and Dean, or, as Sam and Gabriel secretly called them, Deaneo and Cassiet.

Gabriel took a sip of his soda and pulled a mildly disgusted face. Sam regarded him with curiosity.

What's wrong with Gabriel's drink?

"It's not really a drink," Gabriel told him, "more like water with food coloring and sugar."

"Is that not what soda is?" Cas asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion. Gabriel rolled his eyes and let Dean explain.

Does Gabriel want to try Sam's milkshake?

Gabriel smiled up at him. "Thanks, Samantha."

Sam almost pulled his glass back for that last comment, but let Gabriel take it and wrap his lips around the straw. He waited until the Trickster had already started sucking the milkshake through the straw before leaning towards him and letting his voice drop down to a husky whisper.

Be careful not to choke, Sam's liquid is very thick.

He had expected Gabriel to laugh in surprise, or go speechless, or hell, even return the innuendo. He wasn't prepared for him to _actually choke._ Sam couldn't help the self-satisfied smirk that spread over his face even as he rubbed Gabriel's back soothingly.

The Wonder Couple across from him looked from Sam's frankly evil smile to Gabriel's red and tear-streaked face and back again, as if unsure what had just happened.

"Not cool," Gabriel rasped, voice rough from all of the coughing he had done. Sam made a sympathetic face.

Did Gabriel hurt his throat? Maybe he should swallow Sam's liquid next time instead of inhaling it.

Gabriel choked again, this time on nothing but air. Dean burst into raucous laughter and even Cas gave an amused smile. The ex-archangel glared at Sam briefly before getting up with all the dignity he could muster and leaving the restaurant.

Sam found that he couldn't stop smiling all day.

… oO()Oo …

The grave wasn't anything special, which Sam wanted to yell and scream and rave about. Gabriel deserved so much better than a simple wooden cross nailed into the ground in the field outside of Bobby's house. He brought flowers everyday, though, in an attempt to bring some life to the dreary plot of land.

Dean and Cas were worried, he knew. It had been almost four months and Sam still showed no signs of recovering. He still could only sleep if he drank himself into a stupor first, or passed out from exhaustion, and what sleep he did get was disturbed by nightmares. He came out to Gabriel's grave everyday without fail, to talk to him about everything and nothing, much as they used to when he was still alive.

He couldn't believe what an idiot he'd been, or that he hadn't figured everything out until it was too late. It wasn't as if Gabriel had been subtle about it, either. All the times he had joked with Sam, brought him food, forced him to sleep when he was just about dead on his feet, that had been more than just friendship, Sam knew now.

Sam could clearly recall the sad little smile that Gabriel used to wear whenever he looked at Sam, a smile he now knew was full of love and regret and sadness.

Sam carefully placed the bouquet of flowers down next to the cross. He had taken time to prepare it, carefully picking out the flowers based on their meanings.

There was Bachelor's Button for hope and devotion, white Bellflower for gratitude, China Pink to represent the aching of his heart, Forget-Me-Nots for remembrance, Johnny-Jump-Ups to say how Gabriel constantly occupied his thoughts, Marigolds for grief and and affection, and Moss Rose, a confession of love.

"Do you see this, you asshole?" Sam yelled into the obnoxiously blue sky. "I know what you were trying to tell me all those times! I love you, too! I know that now! I love you!" His voice lowered until he was just barely whispering. "I love you."

And just like every other time, no one answered.

 **I'm sorry for sucking so bad at writing angst, but I got a request from God Is Wearing Black and I just had to try it.**

 **And in case you haven't recently checked my profile, my next story will be a Supernatural The Little Mermaid AU, so keep your eyes peeled for that.**

 **Thanks for reading, Lovelies!**


End file.
